


And take my pain

by zinabug



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Gun Violence, Haircuts, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Just general discussion of killing, dealing with death, not beta read we die like fools, only mentioned - Freeform, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinabug/pseuds/zinabug
Summary: Minkowski giving herself a 2am stress haircut.Major spoilers for up to episode 46
Relationships: Hera & Renée Minkowski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	And take my pain

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Heal by Tom Odell

Her hands were shaking. 

She wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or anxiety or fear about what she was about to do- but the scissors she was holding trembled their way out of her hands and into the air next to her. 

She glared at them. This was hard enough to do anyway, but she couldn’t deal with it anymore. Her hair, floating above her in its braid, had to go. 

She caught the scissors. Her hands had held the gun easier then this, had pulled the trigger easier then snipped the first cut—

_ Breathe. Don’t close your eyes, you’ll just see it again see her die again— Renée. fucking get ahold of yourself and cut your hair.  _

She closed her eyes anyway, feeling the cold scissors press into her hand. It was so simple, just do it. 

_ Do it quick, just like you pulled the trigger on her-  _

Minkowski growled and angrily started to saw a few inches off her braid. She wasn’t sure why she had to do it— but she did. The thick, heavy locks of hair needed to be gone. 

She dropped the scissors and stared at her reflection in her mirror as her now shorter hair slowly floated free of the braid. 

_ Cut it shorter. You look like her.  _

Minkowski shut her eyes. A bad idea. Maxwell’s face flashed in front of her, Maxwell, smiling at her keyboard while her hair floated loose around her— the same hairstyle as Minkowski’s was in now. 

She grabbed the scissors again. Enough bullshit. Shorter. 

Loose locks of hair were freely floating now, and Minkowski blew one out of her face to get a better look at her choppy haircut. 

“Are you… al-alright?” 

Minkowski dropped the scissors again. “Hera.” She sighed. “Do I fucking look alright?” 

“N-not really.” Hera paused. “Do you want to be alone?”

Minkowski picked up the scissors again. “I don’t know, Hera. I don’t really have a choice, right? You’re always here.” 

“Yes, but I cou-could stop talking to you and pretend I’m not here.” 

“Stay.” 

Minkowski bit her lip and looked down at the scissors. She’d made a mess of everything. Again. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“O-o-okay…” Hera said. “Your hair is longer on one side than the other.”

“I KNOW!” She sighed. “I know. I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“I can’t re-really help you. I don’t have hands.” Hera sighed too. “Why are you cutting your hair? It’s two in the morning, and besides, I thought you loved your hair.”

“I do.”

“Why are you cutting it then?” 

“I don’t  _ fucking  _ know.” Minkowski threw the scissors across the room. They only floated vaguely in the direction she had tried to throw them. “I guess I... needed to do something drastic.” 

“And cutting your hair is safe?” 

“Yeah.” Minkowski tried unsuccessfully to smooth down her hair. “It’s safe, but it hurts.” 

“Don’t... do... anything else.” Hera sounded hesitant, almost frightened. 

“I won’t.” Minkowski reached for the scissors and pulled her hair back into a rough ponytail before starting to cut it more level. 

“Pr-pr-promise?”

Hera definitely sounded scared. Minkowski closed her eyes again. She was  _ done _ scaring people, whether it was with a gun or a few sharp words or by telling them exactly how messed up she was. 

“I promise.” 

“Good.” Hera sighed. “I-I know you probably don’t want to talk about it—“

_ Oh, shit. It’s about her it has to be— _

_ “— _ but is this about Maxwell?”

Minkowski dropped her handful of hair. “Yes.” 

“I thought it might be.” Hera’s voice was gentle, sad. “You don’t have to say anymore of you don’t want to—“

“I don’t. I’m going to cut my hair, and clean this up, and go to bed. I don’t want to talk about it more, I don’t want to live through it again and again—“ Minkowski’s voice broke. “Why?” 

“I don’t kn-know.” Hera said. “I know a lot of things, but why you killed Dr. Maxwell is not one of them.” 

“I didn’t mean too, it just— happened— I didn’t want to talk about this. We’re not going to talk about this.”

“I think—“

“Fuck off.” Minkowski snapped. She was going to cry, she could feel it burning behind her eyes. She couldn’t talk to Hera anymore, couldn’t stand another word. 

“Fine!” Hera snapped back. 

Minkowski’s hands had started shaking again. She gritted her teeth and kept working on her hair, even as her eyes blurred with tears. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
